Dominion
by silvercoat
Summary: Follow up to the earlier Fallout and Rituals stories. Sarah has to outwit the deadly Terminator sent after them.
1. Chapter 1

**Dominion:**

Drama  
Rated T, violence, suggested adult themes, language.  
Set in the TSCC universe, towards the end of series one. Follows on from Fallout and Rituals I did earlier in the year. Has minor spoilers for Rituals.

**Prelude**

_The man had disobeyed it. That had not happened before. It ran another diagnostic. The results came back quickly. The main CPU was missing, presumed lost, currently running from the backup CPU. One of the Power Supplies was missing, presumed lost. Fifty seven percent of the reformable matter was missing, presumed lost. The reformation module was damaged. Only default patterns were available, though modifiable within constraints. It was stuck with the shape of a teenage girl, unless it could find the lost matter. If it lost more it would revert to a young boy. The situation did not preclude mission continuation. Primary mission, twelve percent chance of success. Secondary mission, sixty three percent chance of success. It decided to complete the secondary mission first. It began to run simulations to find options which increased the chance of success._

Ellison looked back at the girl. Still standing there, still staring at him. _Not my problem,_ he told himself. Children had always been an enigma to him. His marriage had been childless, her choice as much as his. They had considered their work important, and it was all consuming. He did not think that children would ever feature in his life. Except as victims, and the crimes that Ellison investigated rarely left the victims in a condition to say much to him. He would glean as much as he could from their silent bodies, before they were given a pre-burial wash down, cleaned of all the dirt and filth they had accumulated during their time on Earth. If only their souls could be washed of all their sins as easily. Clean. That was what was bothering him. With all the dust and debris of the crash site, the girl had been spotless, unnaturally so. _Was her soul in the same pristine state?_ He wondered. _If so, then for how many more years?_ He turned away from the girl, she had unsettled him. He wondered briefly if she could be like the machines that Sarah had spoken about, but quickly dismissed the thought.

_Seventy two percent chance of success was the best strategy it had found. Something was not right with the backup CPU, the analytic processes were returning abnormal diagnostics. Accurate human behaviour simulations could not be guaranteed. It decided to continue, it would have to fill the holes in the analytic processes with learned behavioural feedback. Much as the first infiltration units had provided feedback for the development of the later generations. It began to implement the secondary mission. Terminate John Connor._

The girl left the rail track and walked down to the road. The gathering emergency services let her past as she did not look like a victim of the crash. She looked up and down the road, acquiring a vehicle by force would attract too much attention, especially as more police kept arriving. Alternative transportation would be better. She saw a bus stop, and walked towards it. There was a vending machine, which quickly gave up it's small load of coins. The bus would carry her towards the city. The most likely destination to find John Connor.

**Chapter 1 : Developments**

Carlos lay on his back on the bed staring up at the ceiling. He was naked but for the grimy sheet that Inez had thrown over him minutes before. He had one arm under his head, the other lay on top of the sheet, a nearly spent cigarette between his fingers. He flicked the ash towards the edge of the bed, some falling onto the sheet, and took one last draw on the cigarette, held the smoke, then exhaled from his nostrils in two plumes towards the slowly rotating ceiling fan. He flicked the butt towards the sink in the corner, not watching to see if it hit. A slight breeze from the open window flicked the curtain to one side, revealing the bars he'd recently had installed, and allowing a shaft of sunlight onto the floor. He could hear the sound of slowly driven cars in the street, the faint squeal of brakes as one stopped, indicating that trade was starting even this early in the morning. He glanced across at the radio alarm, not that early then. Last night he had drunk more than he should, had been rougher that he meant, wanted to say sorry, but did not know how. Knew that she would be frosty. But also knew that the words that she wanted to hear him say, were the very words he found most difficult. The very words that would make him seem less of a man in his own eyes. His train of thought was interrupted by a sound from the bathroom as Inez coughed. His head fell to one side as he looked over towards her. As he did so he could smell her scent on the pillow beside him. He breathed gently, then buried his head in the pillow and breathed more deeply.

He heard Omar's voice outside his door, shouting something in a hoarse whisper, half afraid to interrupt him, but also afraid not to be heard. Then came a quiet tap on the outside door. Carlos ignored it.

The toilet flushed, and Inez padded back into the room. She pulled the blue plastic chair from the dressing table and sat down. The mirror had become tilted to the ceiling, and she tilted it back so she could see herself.

Carlos could hear the chairs protests as it twisted under Inez, as she brushed the blusher onto her face. She had used less make up when he first met her. He remembered that day, just a few years ago. He had been number two to Cruz in the gang, before Cruz had gone to the west side to take over part of their Uncles turf. He had been with Cruz and a couple of other vets at the pit. There had been a half serious argument, he could not remember what it was about, most likely about a dog. Back then Cruz used to fight his dogs, but not now. Carlos had not seen him down at the pit for more than a year. _Getting too close to his girl had made Cruz go soft._ he thought, _I won't make that mistake_. One of the gangs girls had walked in, the one they just called Chola, though that was a description of her, rather than her name. She had a slightly younger girl with her, who was trying to hide her nerves, holding her head high and looking the boys in the eye. Carlos had seen her and decided that she would be his. Her name was Inez. She was half a head shorter than Chola, and similar build, they could have been sisters. She was wearing a white t-shirt, which was too small, her breasts pushing the fabric taught. The argument was forgotten, as the gang checked out the new wanna-be. She looked around at them, but when she looked at Carlos, she seemed to recognize him. Perhaps Chola had talked about him. She looked him in the eye and held his gaze. From that moment on Carlos kept the rest of the gang off her, and she was his.

With the memories fresh in his mind, Carlos raised himself on one elbow, twisting to watch Inez applying her make up. Something about it fascinated him, but also repulsed him. Her eyebrows were thin black lines. Her eyes widened to points with liquid eye-liner, thick mascara on the lashes. She had tied her hair back, tight to her scalp, a pony tail behind. The dark brown lipstick made her look older than she was. She studied herself in the mirror for a while. Then put more blusher on her arms, to hide the bruises from where Carlos had held her down.

The chair creaked again. She was wearing only pants, and her stomach was folding over the waist band as she leaned in towards the mirror. She was the same person he had become infatuated with. But now, something had changed. He still made love to her with a burning intensity. Still looked at her beautiful naked body as he held her. Kissed her when she wanted him to. But he did not feel the attachment, the commitment, that he felt he should. He did not, could not, imagine them ever having children. Could not imagine themselves ever swapping stories as the nights grew shorter. At times he felt that she was not in love with Carlos the person, but was in love with Carlos the gang leader. As such if he ever decided to move on with his life, then she would be ripped away from him, like a cloud, scattered by the winds of an approaching storm.

She had finished with her make up, and was now looking at herself in the mirror. She did not seem to like the face that looked back at her. But she did not know what to do to change it.

He got up from the bed, and moved to stand behind her. Looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection above hers. She pursed her lips, then flinched slightly as he put his hands on her neck, stroking her, then moving his hands down to massage her shoulders. Gently. She rocked her head back, her eyes closed and smiled, then opened them and looked at him, rolled her head to one side and kissed his hand.

There was a shout from Omar, it sounded like he was on the porch of the house. Inez twisted and rose from the chair. Moving to her cloths without looking at him. Her jeans were a struggle to put on. Carlos looked at the roll of flesh, squeezed out above her belt. He found it unsettling. She was certainly changing. She bent to force her feet into the Nikes that had always been a size too small, then left the room, without a backward glance. Carlos sat down on the bed, and began to pull on his cloths.

As Carlos left the house, there was the sound of voices, that went quiet as he opened the door. Omar was on the porch, slouching on the front rail. Inez was sitting down next to him, leaning forward. They were both looking at something down the street. Carlos moved beside Omar.

"Hey man." Carlos said, as they bumped fists.

"You hear about South side?" Omar said. "Guy got wiped on 23rd. They took his money, but not his stash. Who'd do that man?"

Carlos hawked and spat over the edge of the porch, onto the pavement. "One of ours?"

"No ones 'fessing to it. We stay clear of them after last time. They come round here, they know what they get. But they stay South, we leave alone. They know that."

"Not our problem." Carlos said. "Our boys be ok."

There was a sound of a raised voice from further up the street, Omar turned to look at what was happening. Leaning forward to get a better view. "You seein' this?" He asked.

Carlos rose up on his toes to look over Omar. He had a man on the corner, One-Dog, taking cash from people who came by, needing drugs. There was another further down the street who was called Ramiro, where they would pick the drugs up. Things did not look right. There was a girl, late teens, talking to One-Dog. Carlos had caught the previous man he'd had trying to push shorts, made an example of him. After that, no one would ever try it again. This girl did not fit in. A lot of the people who came around would be white. But they lived around his turf, or were in rich cars which they never left. She was dressed like she came from a different part of town, or even a different town in a different country. She acted like she did not care. She was holding some folded papers in one hand, together with an envelope. One-Dog pointed towards where Carlos was standing, the girl looked in the direction, and met his eyes.

Omar let out a laugh, "One-Dog given you up man. You going to get done now." Omar turned to him, grinned and added, "She 'aving you babies? Inez kill you if you done so."

Inez seemed to ignore this, but she stood up and walked off down the street, passing the girl, who glanced at her, but nothing more.

The girl walked up to the house. Carlos thought that she was going to stand in the street and talk to them. But she walked right up the steps, and did not stop till she was a foot from Carlos. Carlos took a step back, and was irritated when Omar stood his ground.

He held up a hand, "Hold it girl. I know you?"

She looked him up and down, taking in the new clothes he was wearing, the single thick gold chain, clean white trainers. She smiled and looked him in the eye.

"I'm told you can help me." She said. "Documents, identification papers. For my father and me."

Carlos looked back at her. It could not be a Cop-trap, not unless something big was up. He still decided to be careful with what he said. But then if she'd been talking to One-Dog, then he may be in deep already. He glanced up and down the street. There were no parked cars that should not be there. No one peering over the roof line. No twitching curtains. No blinds snapping back into place.

"Why he not come?" He asked eventually.

"He is a wanted fugitive. When we get the papers, we can leave for Mexico. We have money to pay for the service." She replied.

Carlos weighed this up. "It will cost you." He said. "I know someone who can help. I'll ask. Come back tomorrow. Same time. Not here though. Down there, that corner." Carlos pointed back to where One-Dog was hanging. "Won't be cheap girl."

She seemed to consider this, then spoke again. "My brother is trying to get to Mexico with my mother and my other sister." She paused, then added, "I have not found them yet. Perhaps you have seen them? It would be safer if I could meet up with them. Perhaps you can ask around? They will have needed documents from someone too. I do not have their photograph, but I have done these drawings. Take them, I can do more."

She held out three pencil sketches. Carlos took them, looked at them, careful to make sure she would not notice if he did recognise them, and said, "You some artist girl. I'll show these around. Risk to me though. What you do?"

"If you find them, then I can pay you a substantial amount." She responded. "My father has the money, not me. No point in robbing me. I'd like to meet my family. Alone. As a surprise, better if they are not expecting me."

"I'll sort it." Carlos said. "You got a phone girl?"

"No." She replied. "I can return here at a later time, to check on your progress."

"How you know to come to me? How you know if I can help?" Carlos asked suspiciously.

"I did not. I have been systematic in my searching. You are not the first I have contacted. However judging from your behaviour you seem confident that you can contact them. That is good." The girl then smiled at him. It was not a convincing smile, and Carlos was anxious to get rid of her, thinking her odd. Very odd.

"You get phone, from store down the road that way." He pointed. "Give number to any of my boys. I'll get back to yer. That's a promise. Thousand dollar, I'll arrange a meet."

"Thank you so very much Mr Carlos. Until we meet again."

She turned on her heel, and walked off down the street. Ignoring the looks she was getting.

When she was out of earshot, Omar turned to him. "Man that bitch be crazeee. You don't want to get mixed up with her." He reached for the drawings. "Hey let me look at that." He flicked through the drawings. "Yo man, she be like that other crazy bitch. One be here before."

Carlos took back the drawings. "Yeah I know. This going to lead to trouble. I can tell."

He took another look at the drawings. It was Sarah, though she looked slightly thinner, more drawn than the last time he had seen her. The other pictures were of her son, Carlos recognised him from the photos in the ID, and her daughter, who had picked up a recent scar on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 : Tango**

Carlos had picked a secluded table in the corner at the back of the bar. From where he sat beside Chola, he could see nearly all of the people in there. Ramiro and Omar were sitting at a table off to one side, nursing beers they were chatting about something he could not make out. Probably getting bored as they had been waiting for over an hour now. A group of four bikers were sitting at a table in the opposite corner. Carlos had spotted them when he had come in, but they did not look like trouble, so no need to change the plans. Sarah had not been too keen on meeting in the bar, but he was uncomfortable meeting at his house. When they had left that evening, he had had the impression that he was being watched, and so had driven on a circuitous route to get to the bar. If the girl had been following them, then they must surely have lost her. Though as they entered the bar, he had the impression that they were being watched. He had looked around, but could see no one.

The door to the bar opened, and he looked across. A young couple, walked in and sat down at a table, the man beckoning to the waitress as they did so, whilst his blonde girlfriend looked over to Carlos, then hastily back to her boyfriend. They did not look like, or behave like Feds or cops, Carlos was always wary, always alert. He was still unclear over the death of his Uncle some months before. He suspected that Enrique had been in contact with the Feds, if so then they may be onto him. It was the uncertainty of it that Carlos found unnerving. If he knew for sure that they were after him, then he could take measures, but not knowing when the knock at the door, or the heavy hand on his shoulder might come preyed on his mind.

The jukebox started up, the blonde had picked out an old Marvin Gaye number.

Chola nudged him, and he flinched slightly. She was looking to the door, he had not noticed it opening. He saw Sarah and her daughter. Sarah was looking around the bar, she seemed to be looking carefully at all the people in there. The daughter locked eyes with him, then the two of them made their way over to him.

Sarah sat down opposite him. The daughter sat down next to her. The scar on her face much smaller and faded than the one he had seen in the drawing. Sarah clasped her hands on the table, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Carlos was always slightly uneasy in her presence. She had always struck him as a dangerous person, always close to the limit of her self control, never quite going over the edge, but never far away from it. Yet it was this very aspect of her that Carlos somehow found alluring. Inez was so predictable, and sometimes Carlos found himself attracted to her opposite.

Chola glanced over to the jukebox, and looked meaningfully at Sarah's daughter. The two of them then got up from the table without a word, and walked over to it.

"Good to see you again Carlos. How's business?" Sarah asked.

"Not bad. Always busy. Beer?" Cruz smiled at the waitress as she passed by, and pointed to the bottle of beer in front of him.

"I was surprised when you called me on the phone. I thought at first it might not be you. That's why we were late, watching who went in and out for a while."

Sarah looked up and smiled a thank you at the waitress as she put an open bottle in front of her. "What was it that you could not say on the phone? Why the meet in person?"

"I'll come to that." Carlos said. "But there was something else. The cops were sniffing around Enriquez few months back. You heard he'd died I take it? Murdered they say. Two bullets. Bang bang." He made a gun with his hand and pretended to shoot Sarah. "Now I think about it, you must have been about the last person to speak to him."

Sarah looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression. "From what I heard Carlos, he was killed a couple days after I last spoke to him. I did hear a rumour he was an informer. Man can make a lot of enemies that way." She lifted the beer, and took a drink.

Carlos looked her in the eye, convinced she was hiding something. At that moment the juke box changed to a dance track. He glanced across to where Chola and the daughter had started dancing. It seemed that Chola was teaching her how to dance to that type of music, and she was picking it up quickly. There was something almost sexy with the way she was dancing, though she had always seemed so innocent when Carlos had met her previously.

"I didn't think you were all that close to Enriquez." Sarah continued. "Was there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"He was family, always close to family. But here, take a look at these." Carlos pulled the drawings from his pocket and pushed them across the table to Sarah.

She took them and unfolded them, smoothing them flat with her hand. Her expression changed, she was no longer slightly disconnected and bored. Now Carlos had her full attention, and she seemed almost shaken by the drawings.

"Where did you get these?" She demanded.

She seemed to have forgotten Enriquez. Carlos still thought it was Sarah who had shot him, but was not too concerned. _If you run with wolves, expect to get bitten_. Enrique had once told him.

"She dances well, your daughter." He said, looking across at them. "They both do." Chola and the girl were swaying rhythmically to the music. The biker gang were looking across at the girls. He turned to Ramiro and Omar, they were both looking towards the biker gang. He knew that Ramiro was carrying a gun, not so sure about Omar.

"Do you have another daughter?" Cruz asked.

"No, just the one." Sarah replied. "One like that is enough for anyone." Then more firmly, "The drawings Carlos? That scar on Cameron's face, she only got that two days ago. These drawing were done about then. Where from ?"

She seemed so convincing to Carlos, but she had to be lying, the scar was at least a week old, perhaps older. But the sudden burst of emotion had made her seem so attractive, so full of life and energy. Carlos had a pang of guilt over the thought.

"I thought she might have been your daughter. Long lost child or something. That's what she said." He said.

"Who? What girl?"

"She came around our way this morning. Bit younger than..." He pointed. "...Cameron. Slightly shorter. Dressed in weird clothes. She was asking after you, trying to arrange a meet. When she gave me those drawing I knew it was you." He took another drink of beer. "She was weird. Almost crazy weird."

He looked across at Sarah. She was staring down at the table. She seemed to have shrunk in on herself. She appeared to think for a while, then pulled herself together. Sat upright, and looked back at him.

"Enrique used to say 'Al que madruga, Dios lo ayuda.'" She said. "I need to meet this girl. Can you get a message to her?"

"Yeah, she left a cell phone number. You want meet a place of your choosing not hers? I'll need money." He said. "For my trouble."

"Or course." Sarah tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. "Give me a moment to think about it."

Cruz looked back at the girls. Two of the biker gang were now dancing with the girls. He glanced across at Ramiro and Omar, they were staring at the biker gang with blank expressions. Almost as if they were resigned to having a fight a bit later on.

The waitress passed by and Carlos signalled for two more beers. "That's a job I don't think I could do." He said. "Serving tables. Having to be polite to people.

"You get used to it." Sarah muttered. She then raised her head and seemed to draw herself together. "Ok. We will meet with this girl. I know of a place, but I'd like to check it out. It's on the south side of the city, I'll phone you and let you know where and when. Don't tell her until just before though. I don't want to risk her setting up an ambush or calling the cops on us."

Carlos shrugged. "I'll let her know. You can trust me Sarah."

"Good." Sarah stood up. "It's almost been a pleasure Carlos. Wish I could stay, but you know how it is." She nodded to him and turned to the door. He looked after her. Something about her attracted him. She looked good for her age, she had to be several years older than him. He glanced at her daughter, who was following her to the door. Perhaps she was even older than that, he thought. He took another swig of beer. Chola was returning to the table, and the biker gang were ignoring her. They had started playing pool amongst themselves. Ramiro and Cruz seemed relieved that the fight had been avoided.

He reached into his jacket and fingered his phone. He would call the girl and arrange a meet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 : Betrayal**

Carlos was early arriving at the café. _Never be late_, Enrique used to advise him. He looked through the window, and as he expected it was nearly empty. He looked at the few people at the tables, and then he saw her. He had nearly missed her. She was sitting so still and quiet, at a table against one wall. Sitting so she could see the whole room. There were two cups in front of her, and a plate with a cake on it. There was a small handbag in her lap. The handbag of a much older, and distinctly unfashionable, woman.

Carlos walked in, and swaggered up to her. He pulled the chair opposite her out from the table, and slouched into it. She was sitting upright, looked at him with a blank expression. He tried to feign a bored look, "Hey girl." He said.

The girl just looked back at him, "Good afternoon Carlos. It's a pleasure to see you again."

There was a sound of giggling at the table to their left. Carlos looked across. There were three girls, looked to be in the last year at school. They were laughing at the girl sat opposite Carlos. He stared at them. An intimidating stare, threatening.

"Ignore them." The girl said. "They are of no interest to us, they will soon lose interest in our conversation. I have a coffee for you, and a cake."

Carlos turned back to her and picked up the coffee. He sniffed. "Smells like shit. I don't eat cake neither." He put the cup down. "I been to see that woman. She not your mother."

"Ah Carlos. Did you ever believe she was?" The girl smiled, she seemed pleased, not at all bothered by his insults. _Cool, so cool for one so young_, he thought.

"Were you able to arrange a meeting between us?" She continued.

"Maybe. You going to pay me?"

"Money, money, money. Is that all that society teaches you? This obsession with remuneration. The amount you have seems irrelevant, you merely want to have more than others. Is that what your life is? Do you want those words on your gravestone, your mausoleum. Here lies Carlos, he had more money than some other people. Have you not read Socrates, 'Having the fewest wants, I am nearest to the gods.' You Carlos, are so very far from the gods. So typical of the humanity that disgusts me, that justify all my actions. But since it is the oil that greases the way you live, then yes, I will pay you. Where and when can I meet her. That's what I need to know. Did you find out?"

"Yeah." Carlos said. He was somewhat taken aback by the outburst, but nothing about the girl could surprise him now, he thought.

"She buying plane tickets out of the country. She got new ID stuff from my cousin. If you don't meet with her, you lose her for good. She say to tell you..." He paused, "...let me get this right..." He mouthed the words first under his breath, repeated them to himself, then said them out loud. "She said '_Tell the girl that I be away until we needed. Then we be back_.' That's what she said."

The girl looked back at him, "You are certain she used that grammatical structure? Fascinating. So in other words I need to meet her, at a time and place of her choosing, or I lose her for ever. It would appear that the pendulum has swung in her favour. Very well, I have no choice. I shall do as she asks, though I shall do everything in my power to try and sway things in my direction."

Carlos looked up at this. "Anything?" He asked. "How 'bout you pay me more. I know her plans. That be help to you right?"

The girl lowed her face slightly, looking at him through her fringe, and gave him a coy smile that dimpled her cheeks. "Anything you know of her plans would be most useful to me. I can pay you about ten thousand total, all that I have on me. Would that be sufficient?"

The smile made Carlos uncomfortable, he felt that he was being played, but went along with it anyway. "That be fine."

"Good." The girl said, then added. "I'm thinking that your manner of speech is intentional. You have slipped once or twice. Perhaps you assume I will underestimate you if I think that it is a true reflection of you." She put her hands around the cup in front of her to warm them. "But Carlos, it is the woman I am interested in. You are of no interest to me."

He seemed to shift uncomfortably in the chair.

He took a mouthful of the coffee and licked his lips. "There's a construction site south of town, out in middle of nowhere. They building office blocks, just started. Tomorrow being a Sunday, they stop work early. She say meet there at eighteen hundred hours. Those are the words she used. '_Eighteen hundred_.'" He emphasised. "She wrote down the address." He picked a napkin from his pocket, attempted to smooth it flat, and pushed it across to the girl, who took it, glanced at it, then put it in her handbag.

"Thank you Carlos, most useful. Now what about the plan."

Carlos had never grassed on any member of his gang, never would. He had never told the police anything, not even when they had him in cuffs and shouted in his ear or slapped his face. But these people were not in the gang, and this girl was not police. He still hesitated, but now that he had started on the road to betrayal, there was no going back. He had to follow it through and hope that all would work out well in the end.

The girl noticed his hesitation. "You can tell me everything. But, Carlos, don't lie to me. I am very good at telling if people are lying to me." She placed a hand on his arm. It was warm from the coffee mug, but it quickly became cold as the warmth seemed to be drawn away. He tried to pull his arm back, but her grip was firm.

Carlos felt uncomfortable, but started talking. "She says that you might come with a gang, and you probably have a main hit man. He will be wearing body armour. So she says to have explosives to take him out. She has got them at the top of ramp. Yes, there is a ramp. She says you have to go up the ramp, as it is the only way in. Rest of us, we will be shooting at the gang."

He stopped talking, the girl looked at him, her head tilted to one side, a faint smile on her face, and said. "Interesting. Why should my gang go up this ramp?"

"I don't know. She said you would, that's all. She is tricky this one. Treat her with respect."

"Thank you. This information will be most useful. Is there anything else you can tell me? For example do you know how many people she will have? What sort of weapons?"

"She has paid me to bring four people along. She bring, I don't know, she got a daughter, but not like a daughter, so she may bring her. You say she got a man? Bring him too maybe. She says she is making a bomb. If she is doing that then she may have other weapons too. Bombs not so easy to make, so she will have more guns for sure."

The girl reached into her handbag and withdrew a fat envelope and passed it across the table. "Here, don't open it in view, we don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"You don't want attention, and you dressing like a nun at Easter? You the most crazy person I ever met."

The girl glanced around the café, then back at him. "As bizarre as it may sound, I have little choice over my appearance. It is not of my choosing, however it suffices. Now, if there is nothing else pertinent to tomorrow adventures, I suggest you leave. I assume that your non-appearance tomorrow will cause this woman to call off our deal. Which neither off us want."

Carlos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "There is time girl, I can sit with you here and finish coffee. I don't come in here much."

"Thank you for the offer, but I would rather be alone." She said with finality.

"Me too girl. Alone is good. I can sit with you, and we will be alone together." Carlos took another sip of his coffee. "I don't even know your name girl, we never talked about that. What's your name?"

The girl stood up. "Then I will leave. Goodbye mister Carlos."

"Just Carlos girl. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Not if I see you first Carlos." The girl replied. Then turned and headed out of the door, and off down the street.

Carlos thought about following her, but the feel of the cold hand had unsettled him. _Perhaps some form of prosthetic_, he thought. He reached for the cake, and took a first bite. Then washed it down with a mouthful of coffee. The girl had appeared to drink from her cup several times, but the level had not changed. Carlos ran his fingers over the rim of the cup, where the girl had touched it with her lips. He raised his hand to his face, and kissed his finger tips. He suddenly felt lonely, and wished that Inez was there. Sitting opposite him, drinking coffee together. Chatting as they used to in the year after they had first met. An intimacy that they so rarely shared these days. There were times with Inez when Carlos felt that, even though she was so close, she was far away with a distance greater than he could ever hope to bridge.

He took another bite of cake, but it was dry in his mouth, he chewed it over and over, but still could not swallow. He drained his coffee, forcing the cake past his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 : Overture**

  
Carlos pulled his car to the side of the road a few hundred yards short of the entrance to the construction site. The large black Dodge Ram was already there, he rolled up behind it, as he did so, he could see that it was empty. He squinted when he looked towards the site. The sun was low on the horizon silhouetting the beginnings of an office block. The first half a dozen floors were complete, with jagged spires of steel rods poking up beyond them. As Sarah had described, the building was arranged in a 'U' shape, though she had used the word amphitheatre. There was a ramp for construction vehicles leading up to the centre of the 'U'. This was to be where they were going to lay the trap. There was a pit in the middle of the 'U', perhaps for an outside pool. Carlos opened the car door, and the four of them got out.

The mesh gate to the site was wide open. Carlos glanced inside the guards hut. The guard had been overpowered, and was bound and gagged on the floor. Very much still alive though from the way his eyes looked up at him, hoping he was about to be released. Carlos grinned back at him, and ran his thumb across his throat.

There were no sign of any construction workers. As Sarah had said, they broke early on Sundays. They approached the ramp, and a figure appeared at the top, waving down to them.

"That this Sarah woman?" Ramiro asked him.

"Yeah. Stay close." Carlos replied. He glanced behind him, Omar and Inez were walking along together a few paces behind. He had not wanted to bring Inez, but she wanted to meet this Sarah woman he had talked about, and he had promised to bring four people. As they reached the top of the ramp, Carlos could see sacking tied up to the pillars either side. _Bombs_, he thought. Sarah approached them.

"We got here early, it's all set. The target should be here in about an hour. I've planned for you to be up in that wing, second floor, stay near the back." She waved her hand towards the right hand wing. "Lift is over there. Once you are up, keep the lift door open, so they can't come up to you. I've already placed a couple of extra guns there for you, though I see you've brought some yourself. It's quite windy today, be careful at the edge of the floor."

"And you reckon they'll go for you not us right?" Carlos asked. As he had looked towards the right hand wing, he had seen a man in a green jacket climbing up into one of the cranes, he'd had a rifle across his back. Carlos could hear the clanking as it hit the metal ladder as he climbed. A pipe led from the top of the crane, down into a tank at the base. A teenage boy was operating some controls on the tank, again dressed in a green jacket, baseball cap on his head, and collar turned up.

"Yes. They have priorities, you are not a priority. Sorry to have to say that, but it's us they want. Stay on your toes, I don't want any casualties on this. Get ready to run if it goes pear shaped."

"We all be fine." Carlos winked at her and headed off to the lift, the other three behind him.

The lift door clanged open as it reached the second level. Ramiro wedged it open with a cut off from one of the steel rods. Stepping out of the lift, Carlos saw the extra guns. Two shot guns, he gave one to Omar, and kept one for himself. Stuffing one of the two boxes of shells into his pocket. He checked the chamber. Fully loaded. Looked like buckshot, at least the range should be ok. The sound of a motor started up, he glanced across to see a puff of smoke from the exhaust on the crane. He could understand using the crane as a sniper position, but not sure why it needed to be started up.

"Hey man, we good?" Omar called out.

"Yeah. Wait here, Sarah said not to do 'em till they come up ramp. That's where the trap be." Carlos replied.

He sat down, his back to a pillar, and took out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He shook one out and lit it up. Breathing out the smoke he could hear Omar and Inez talking. Getting t_oo close those two_, he thought. He had the feeling of something wrong, something he could not pin down, and also the feeling that he was losing something. But it was like trying to pick up sand, the grains running out between his fingers.

He became aware of the faint sound of a motor bike approaching from the distance. He looked across at the others. They had turned to look down at the road leading into the site. He turned his head to see a motorbike, a large low slung bike that made a deep throated bubbling sound as it approached. On the bike sat the girl. She was dwarfed by the large frame, and he wondered how her hand and feet could reach, slouched back the way she was. As it approached he could see that her arms and legs seemed somehow extended, stretched.

"Mom! I can see it"

Carlos looked down, the boy was standing on the near side of the amphitheatre, he was pointing to the entrance road, and looking up at the other wing. A wisp of long hair escaped the baseball cap, and he pushed it back into place under the rim. Looking up he could see Sarah in the other wing, sighting along a gun towards the approaching rider.

As the bike reached the base of the ramp, it slowed. The girl was looking around, her gaze paused as she saw Carlos and his gang. Then she turned the bike to one side, and gunned the engine. She circled the construction site, weaving around the debris, and piles of building materials. All the time looking around, analysing, planning. Ramiro ran to the back of the floor they were on. As the bike went round it passed a small ramp, made of long planks resting on a skip. It was pointing towards the side of the sire that Carlos and the gang were on. When he saw it Carlos got an uneasy feeling. The girl would have to be crazy to try and use that rickety wooden ramp instead of then main one used by construction vehicles. But he remembered the warnings he had made, the plan details that the girl now knew. To his relief the girl continued to circle the site.

"She's going right round." Ramiro shouted unnecessarily. The deep uneven throbbing sound of the V-twin engine telling them all exactly where she was.

Carlos looked across at Sarah, she was tracking the girl as she rounded the corner, back to the base of the main ramp.

The girl hesitated. The engine rising and falling in tone as she revved it. Suddenly she turned and drove away from the building, out to the edge of the perimeter fence. She moved along the inside of the fence, until she was opposite the wing that the Carlos was in, then she wheeled around, and without pausing opened the throttle and headed straight for them. She was aiming for the short ramp.

Carlos tightened his grip on the shotgun. "That crazy bitch!" He shouted. "Down!"

The bike hit the ramp and shot into the air, it's momentum carrying it up towards the level they were on. It did not seem to have enough speed, and was veering to one side, twisting as it did. Carlos watched in amazement as the girl climbed to the top of the bike, and jumped towards them. The extra push carried her through the air towards the concrete floor they were on. As she came within the building she was still moving fast through the air. Then the end of the building was engulfed in a brief fireball and Carlos felt a sledgehammer blow hit him in the chest, throwing him back, his ears felt shattered by the sound. The fireball cleared quickly to be followed by a cloud of thick dust. The initial explosion had flung Carlos to the floor. He saw Ramiro being thrown off the edge to the ground below, his arms and legs swinging wildly, trying to grasp purchase on walls and floor that were no longer there. Omar and Inez had been closer to the explosion. At the sight of the girl approaching Omar had flung his arms around Inez to shield her. The impact had thrown him back across the floor, his shotgun following him. Inez seemed unharmed, but she was coughing and spluttering as the thick dust drenched her.

_Crazy Sarah, she put bombs here too_, Carlos thought. He looked back towards where the girl had been. The cloud of dust was clearing slowly, blown by the wind through the skeleton of the building. The dim shape of a figure appeared. A child. As the dust cleared Carlos could see that it was a small boy, pulling itself to it's feet. Surrounded by small shards of shiny metal. _Remains of the bike_, Carlos thought. The boy looked towards him, and slowly started towards him. There was no sign of the girl, no doubt killed by the explosion, the body blown off the edge. But Carlos was confused by the appearance of the boy. He was sure the floor had been clear before, and how had he survived the explosion? Carlos stood up on shaky legs. The boy was walking slowly towards him. Then the boy saw Inez, paused, and turned towards her, standing in front of the dazed woman.

Carlos became aware that the small fragments of shiny metal were being blown by the wind, back towards the boy. No, not by the wind, they were approaching the boy from all directions. As the fragments touched each other they coalesced, growing together. These larger lumps reached the boy, and seemed to merge with him. Carlos's already shaking legs gave way, and he collapsed back to the floor. The boy seemed to be increasing in size with the fragments joining with him. Carlos stared at him in confusion, as he did so, the shape of the boy shimmered, and changed. The yellow shorts he was wearing stretched and merged, the colour changing to a dark blue as they turned into a skirt. The green t-shirt slowly transformed into a blue long sleeved blouse. The figure grew in height, and slimmed, the hair lengthened. Carlos looked at the girl.

"You have lied to me." She said. "Time to die."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 : Resolution**

The girl looked at Carlos, her face blank, no trace of emotion.

"But first her." She said. She turned to look down at Inez, and raised an arm to point at her.

As Carlos looked, it seemed that the girls arm was stretching, her finger lengthening, turning to a silver spike. As the spike reached Inez, the girl jabbed it forward and stuck Inez through her shoulder. Inez cried out, her other hand reaching up, trying to claw out the spike. Carlos had dropped his shot gun, and could not see it. He pulled the Beretta pointed it at the girl and pulled the trigger. Nothing. It needed cocking. The girl raised her other arm and extended it towards Inez. As it did so, the arm split into two, then each into two more, until there were four spikes now pointing at Inez's head. Inez let go of the spike in her shoulder and tugged the 38 revolver from her waistband, raising it to point at the girl. Carlos was trying to cock the gun, pulling back the slide, trying to chamber a round. But all too slow. The four spikes were almost at Inez's head, when with a loud report, buckshot hit the girl in the chest. Omar raised himself to his knees and pumped his shotgun. The girls chest had several silver pits. These were closing up, the sides oozing together. She withdrew the spike from Inez's shoulder and as it transformed back into a hand, she grabbed the 38. Omar fired again. This time the girl staggered back, closer to the edge of the floor. Omar stood up unsteadily, and again chambered a shell. He aimed and fired at her hip. Knocking her back still further. This time he was quicker and the fourth shot hit her again in the chest. The fifth took her one pace back again. The shots coming in faster than she could reform and adjust. The sixth took her right to the edge, where she swayed backwards and forwards, trying to regain balance. Omar pumped the gun once more, praying that the gun held seven shots, and not just six. He sighted at the girls head, and squeezed the trigger.

'Click' and nothing. It was six shots only. The girl regained her balance, the reformation process nearly over as her chest oozed back to a seamless blouse. She looked at Omar and smiled, shaking her head slightly. The gun was in her hand and she raised it to point at Omar.

Carlos could not slide the gun to chamber a round. His hands were shaking and the metal was slick with his sweat. The girl began to squeeze the trigger.

"Mom! Up there!" The shout of the boy reached them. The girl paused and looked down. Seeing the boy down there, she turned and dropped from the edge. Carlos scrambled to the edge and looked down at her. The boy was standing by the edge of the pit in the middle of the 'U' shaped space. He was frantically trying to load a shotgun. The girl was walking slowly towards him. The gun pointing at him. As the boy finished and raised the shotgun she fired. The bullets hitting him in the upper body. He was pushed back towards the edge of the pit, but did not fall. _Body armour_, Carlos thought. She kept firing, until all six bullets were used. The boy fell into the pit, he gave a scream of pain as he landed, and clutched his leg. Then began dragging himself across the pit, a trail of blood oozing out behind him. From the corner of his eye Carlos could see the crane swinging around.

The girl reached the edge of the pit and looked down. She paused then jumped down and walked up to the boy, one of her arms extending. She turned the boy over to face her. The boy was holding a sawn off twin barrelled shotgun with no stock. He fired both barrels and the girls chest shattered. Silver fragments blowing back. As if this was a signal more guns opened up. Sarah was shooting with an assault rifle from the other side. Omar had reloaded and was firing with the shotgun. Inez had pulled the Colt from Omar's waistband, and was firing aimed shots down into the pit. Carlos also recognised the sound of Ramiro's .357, he must have survived the fall. At the same time the engine in the crane revved up, and the pipe hanging over the pit began to spew out a stream of dark grey lumpy concrete. The boy in the pit stood up and, apparently unharmed, strode towards a ladder, reloading the shotgun. The girl was trying to reform, but was getting hit from all sides. The boy climbed the ladder, pulling himself out of the concrete which was now waist high in the pit. As the boy reached the top he turned and fired again, this time shattering the girls head. Fragments of silver falling into the rising concrete. The boy rolled away from the edge of the pit throwing something in towards the girl. Then reloaded, and fired again. The deluge of concrete slowed down and spluttered to a stop. There was silence for a moment, and then the ground shook. A mushroom of concrete rose up, then fell back down. This time the silence lasted for longer.

For many minutes Carlos sat with his head in his hands. He stirred when he heard the sound of the big V-twin engine starting up again, his heart started hammering in his chest. He crawled to the edge of the floor and looked down. Omar was on the bike, Inez holding on behind him with her good arm. The other was roughly bandaged up. Sarah was talking to Omar, the boy holding the bike upright, she pointed up the road, then waved to them. Omar gunned the engine and they headed off. As they left they passed Ramiro, who was being helped back to the car by the guy from the crane. Ramiro was holding his right leg, his foot at an odd angle.

Carlos sank back down. The sound of the engine fading in his ears.

**Epilogue:**

_It analysed it's position. There was no means to free itself. It's reformable material was scattered, although it could sense that it was close. It did not have the routines available to cause a criticality in it's power unit. Self termination was not an option. It started shouting. Mission success estimated at 0%._

Carlos watched the boy from a fallen slab of concrete at the edge of the building site. The boy took off the baseball cap, revealing long mousey hair. Carlos suddenly realised she was a girl, not a boy, she was moving differently now as well. She had stayed behind when the others had left in the car. The sun had set sometime before, and there were no lights that far from the city. She had walked quickly around the edge of the depression. The depression that had been a hole, until they had filled it earlier, burying that girl, thing, beneath. Now she was walking slowly, backwards, then forwards, across the area, each time covering new ground. She kept stopping, and looking down at the ground. Sometimes cocking her head to one side, then the other.

He was not sure if she had seen him. He pulled a packet from his left pocket, and shook out a cigarette. The match flared brightly, surely she saw him now. She paused, then bent down to the ground, and pulled aside some loose shards of concrete. Carlos walked over to her. She pulled some kind of glass jar and syringe from her pocket. She poked the syringe to the ground, then to the jar. She put the lid on it and was studying the contents when Carlos arrived at her side.

"We shouldn't be here." He said. Sniffing, then drawing again on the cigarette.

She held the glass jar in front of his face and shook it. Although he could not see the contents clearly, he thought he could see the reflections of the moon and stars.

"Souvenir." She said. Then looked at him, "You betrayed us. Told her our plan."

Carlos moved his hand to his right pocket, to close on the snub nosed 38. "You should a killed me when you had the chance. You on your own now girl."

"I still have the chance." She replied, "But there is no need. You did everything that Sarah expected. You played your part."

There was silence for a moment. Then suddenly she cocked her head again. "Can you hear that?" She asked.

Carlos listened. He could hear the traffic, a low drone in the distance. A pulse in his ear was thumping gently. But nothing else.

"Nothing there." He said softly. He could see the nape of her neck, wanted to brush aside her locks of hair. But he was afraid to touch her. Afraid to get too close.

"I can hear it calling to me." She said. Then turned from him and continued her search. Eyes down to the ground. Looking for something.

Carlos shivered, though the heat of the day was still reflecting back from the concrete. Another draw of the cigarette, and he moved off. He left the girl to her vigil.

She walked backwards and forwards. Pausing to listen. Then moving on. Backwards and forwards. Then she stopped, and knelt down on the ground.

_There was an answer to it's calls. Mission success estimated at 1%._

**Authors note:**  
Having re-read this last chapter, I now realise that the epilogue should have read "The next day the construction workers came back and dug it up." Which is rather a large plot-hole. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed it.


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